Since last we turned the page

When I was a child, music flowed through my mind as soft and curly as an August wind. If I heard it in the trees, the swaying and swishing would transport me to the hills, where we would feel free to roll in the grass. Then begin to spin with the floating dandelion fluff. If I pressed my ear to the ground I would imagine little fairies that may fly high out from their homes in the blades of grass. Walking through the forests we would have a lightness in our step as we played hide and seek behind brush, leaves and evergreen forts.
There are moments when we recreate that feeling, the emotion behind our child like imagination. I am forever grateful for those treasures that were planted as seeds in time.

*remembering summer dances



*laying in the grass bathed in sun.
*playing in innocence
*twirling
*August wind
*inside forts
*tree forts
*clubhouses
*trampolines
*imagination
*hours flying by
*purple playdoh
*peanut butter press down cookies
*11 year old ideas
*9 year old dreams
*6 year old ambitions
*3 year old stories
*34 year old goals
*Years together
*seeing the ocean like an old friend
*precious lost time
*gaining speed and running with creativity
*Sunday siestas snuggling soundly